New Resolutions
by FlashOfInspiration
Summary: Janeway brings home a souvenir from New Earth. Accidentally. J/C


Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek Voyager or the characters therein.  
TW: For mention of/hinting of abortion.

It had been a night Kathryn would never forget. She would always remember the sounds, the smells, the sensations, the images burned into her brain for her to view every time she closed her eyes. She did not need _this_ additional reminder. She did not need more of a souvenir than the rock she had picked up outside of what had been, for that glorious, short time, _their_ home. And yet she was stuck with one. An un-returnable gift. And one that she wanted more than anything, but knew she couldn't have.

Kathryn Janeway was pregnant. And she _could not be_.

If she kept the baby, every alien race that they ran into would not see her as a strong captain, but as a feeble female, a broodmare. They would talk over her head to Chakotay or Tuvok more than they did now. And her crew would know that she had given in to feelings, to lust. They would say the frigid captain finally let go of her repressed emotions. They would laugh at her behind her back. They would lose respect for the woman who could not keep her legs closed. They would question her judgment, and lose faith in her ability to lead them, her judgment to guide them.

Kathryn pressed her hands to her face, trying to push down both her massive headache and her tears. This could not be happening. And yet it was. And there was only one option.

She crossed to the window, watching the glow of stars speeding past. This was far from fair. Kathryn did want children, she truly did…someday. But a starship was no place for children. Naomi Wildman was an exception. There had been no choice there, and it certainly would not have been Kathryn's choice anyway. Kathryn could discourage fraternization and tell people to be careful, but when it came down to the decision of whether to have a child or not….Well that was up to the parents.

Kathryn sighed because of course, thinking about parents brought her back to her own situation and reminded her that she was not exactly alone in this. It took two to tango, so to speak.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Kathryn sighed heavily, turning away from the comforting stars. _Chakotay_.

Under different circumstances, this would be thrilling. Kathryn would be ecstatic and Chakotay would be over the moon—whatever moon they happened to be passing at that time. She had no doubt about that, no doubt that Chakotay would do the honourable thing by his child, and by her. But that was part of the problem. Kathryn could not marry Chakotay not here, not now.

They were still so far from home that it was no use even thinking of it. Day dreams and what ifs were not for captains with starships to command and get home. Kathryn already had a ship full of responsibility, people who were like her children. She didn't need an actual one.

Kathryn knew that she could trust the Doctor to keep his peace on the matter. Either that or she could wipe his memory of the incident. And it would have to go on her record. Unless she wiped it from the doctor's memory and deleted it from the medical records.

Kathryn groaned. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have gotten so complacent? She had ordered her crew to leave her and Chakotay but of course they hadn't listened. They were all too loyal, her included. If their positions had been reversed, Kathryn would not have simply given up and left her people behind. She could hardly fault her crew for doing the same. So they had come back for their captain and their commander. And their dirty little secret.

Kathryn could not tell Chakotay. She couldn't. She knew what he would do, what he would say, what he would want. They were all things she felt, and she wanted too. But she had to be the level headed one, the reasonable one. Chakotay understood that she was in command, but he didn't understand what a baby would do to her command, to her authority. He would say that nothing would change, but everything would. It already had. It was hard enough being back on the ship together, pretending that nothing had happened. They had agreed that it was best. She wondered if they were fooling anyone because she certainly knew they weren't fooling themselves. This would just make it harder. This would make it impossible.

Kathryn pressed a hand to her stomach, knowing that what was growing inside her was too small to really _be_ anything yet. But oh the possibilities. A baby with Chakotay's dark hair and eyes, his steady, dependable nature, her curiosity. Her heart swelled and broke at the same time just thinking about it. She had to do this. It was what was best for her ship, and what was best for her.

Chakotay would never forgive her. He would yell at her, rail at her. _"Dammit Kathryn, this is my baby too, it should also be my decision!"_ How unfair it was. She would lose out no matter what she chose. And if she chose to not have the baby, she would lose Chakotay forever.

Kathryn sat down, elbows on her knees. Her fingers locked, twisting around each other as she stared straight ahead. She had pushed away her feelings for so long, her feelings about everything. That's what she had to do. Their mission was supposed to be short, and yet now it stretched on it seemed indefinitely. She sometimes cursed the day she ever accepted this post, this mission, and cursed her own morals and ethics that had led her to destroy the Caretaker's array rather than use it to send them all home. Of course, without all of this, all the missions and time spent together, she never would have had her family. Because she did have a family. Chakotay, Tuvok, Tom, B'Elanna, Harry, Kes, even the Doctor, and the rest of the crew, they were all the family she had, and all the family she needed now. And yet….

" _I cannot sacrifice the present for a future that may never happen_." Chakotay had said that back on New Earth. And he was so convincing, had grown more convincing every day. She had dropped into informality quickly, telling him to call her Kathryn, but it was she who was not fully prepared for the informality, the intimacy. They had grown closer and closer, and Kathryn, Kathryn who had said to call her Kathryn and not Captain, had told him to stop, they shouldn't grow so close, that it meant he was losing hope of their cure, their rescue. But they hadn't stopped. Perhaps it was the fresh air, the stable ground under her feet, the routine, the bathtub….Whatever it was had Kathryn slowly beginning to let go of Voyager and beginning to accept her life on New Earth. With Chakotay. He was really one of the only men she'd find it remotely acceptable to be marooned with. She had considered herself lucky after a while.

He would never forgive her if she did this. But how could she not?

But how could she? She would have to live with it for the rest of her life. And live with Chakotay's accusing, haunted, disappointed, hurt dark eyes boring in to her back every time she turned around. They would fight at first. Then he would shun her. And that would be that. Or she could not tell him. She could do it with none the wiser. And then only she would be forced to carry the burden of guilt, feeling it every time she looked at Chakotay or felt his gaze on her. She already felt bad enough, knowing how her distance since they had gotten back to the ship was paining him. It hurt her too, but it was necessary. A chain of command had to be kept, and them being together…it would just muddle things up. Of course, her telling him about her pregnancy would do that too. Whether she kept the baby or not. Could she tell him? Could she not?

She wished there was another way. Perhaps the doctor could take the embryo out, whatever there was of it, and place it in stasis until—until what? Until they got home? Who knew how long that would be? Who knew if she and Chakotay would even still care for each other by then? Who knew if they'd be alive? Who knew if the embryo could even survive like that?

 _But isn't it better to try rather than killing it outright?_

A hand went to her mouth as she leaned, hunched over her lap. She pushed back a sob, but it was no use. Tears streamed down Kathryn's face and she let them, though she despised crying. But she needed some sort of release. And hopefully, with the calm that comes after a storm of tears, there would be an answer.

 _I cannot sacrifice the present for a future that may never happen._


End file.
